


Deserving

by makingitwork



Series: Chase/House [25]
Category: House M.D.
Genre: Abuse of Authority, Age Difference, Anal Fingering, Dubious Ethics, Dubious Morality, Extremely Dubious Consent, Fingering, Forced Orgasm, Gay, Hickeys, Kinda Happy Ending for House and Chase, Kissing, Love, Lube, M/M, NO torture, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Non-Consensual Somnophilia, Not extreme pain, Orgasm, Rape, Slash, Somnophilia, Stretching, limp, non-con, other tags, pliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-15
Updated: 2014-07-15
Packaged: 2018-02-09 00:03:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1961268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makingitwork/pseuds/makingitwork
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>House drugs and rapes Chase.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Deserving

**Author's Note:**

> Prompted by Roxy Smith!  
> x

House admired his handiwork from the doorway, the room was dimly lit, but he could see Chase, sprawled out on the bed. 

Drugging him hadn't been hard, but making sure he'd passed out here, in the guest room of this giant mansion where a huge party was happening downstairs? Now that, had taken more skill. But he'd done it. He stepped inside, closing the door and locking it. The room became darker, the only light from the lamp in the corner, the stars through the window, and the fairy lights along one wall. House picked up his cane, just to be sure, and prodded Chase in the leg with it. The blond didn't stir. He stepped closer, placing two fingers on Chase's neck, and he could hear the steady- albeit slowed- pulse. He sighed, setting his cane aside, and his hands went to Chase's belt. 

"Don't worry," he whispered "I've got you," this was partially to reassure Chase's subconscious, and because he could never speak so softly to the Australian when he was awake. He pulled off the belt, setting it aside neatly, and then after tossing Chase's shoes into the corner, started peeling down his skinny jeans. God damn it. Skinny jeans. It's as though Chase were asking for it. The way they clung to his long, lean legs, he peeled them off, and threw them away. He looked down, and groaned. Red, silk boxers. Christ. If the kid wanted to tempt House, he was sure going about it the right way. House straddles the unconscious boy, and unbuttoned the black shirt, savouring each piece of tanned skin that was revealed, he threw it away, smoothing his hands down over the lightly toned stomach and arms. His nipples pebbled automatically and House shook his head. He deserved this. He deserved Chase. How many lives had he saved? How many diseases had he predicted? And cured? He was a god in that hospital! He deserved this innocent little catholic boy who called himself a doctor. 

He deserved it!

He ran his hands down Chase's sides, to his hips, and then up to his neck "You feel so nice," House whispered, more stating a fact to himself than complimenting the slumbering Wombat. He trailed a hand from Chase's chest up to his jaw as softly as he could, admiring the prominent collar bone. He wondered who else had seen Chase like this. In all his Australian glory. Nobody important. House briefly wondered what Wilson would do if he were hear. He'd give House hell, that's what. That he should think twice about ra-...about raping someone. House didn't like the word rape. He didn't want to be a rapist! But it wasn't his fault! Chase was different. Chase was special. Chase was interesting. He tempted House in all the ways nobody had before. He was intelligent, and eager to please, and good company to be around. He had so many fucking issues, it had been a long time since House met someone with nearly as many issues as himself, but Chase did. 

He needed Chase. 

There. House had admitted it. He needed his Wombat, in his life, in his heart, in his job. He needed him. Every. Part. Of. Him. He leaned down, biting hard near the artery on Chase's neck, sucking, lavishing the skin there, leaving a deep, week lasting hickey. Then, he bent down and kissed Chase's soft, pink lips. And the Australian made a small, startling sound in his sleep, and House almost laughed. Of course, hickey on his neck, clothes being pulled off, but he wakes up with a kiss. The boy was sleeping beauty. Something out of a fairy tale. Unfortunately, House wasn't the prince. He was the old woman with a spindle. He wasn't worried about Chase stirring, the drug would keep his mind slowed down, keep him weak. He wouldn't wake up, though his subconscious might. 

House ran his fingers through Chase's hair and groaned "God, I've always wanted to do that," he whispered, tangling his hands in it. It was so soft. Felt like satin against his fingertips. No one should have hair that soft. Chase was tempting him. Forcing his hand. This wasn't House's fault. This was Chase's.

That's what he thought as he slid his hand down into the expensive boxers, and he took a sharp breath. "Jesus, Chase." 

Because his boy was fucking hard.

Didn't matter whether it was just a symptom of the drug, some part of Chase's conscious was responding to the gentle fondling- more like molesting, of his body. House knew it. Even if Chase said no, yelled no, accused him of rape, his body was saying yes. His body was accepting House, inviting him wide open arms. He wrapped his fingers around Chase's cock, and Chase whimpered. Whimpered. Didn't whine or try to get away, but whimpered, he liked it. He waned this. He just didn't know it. House wondered briefly what Chase was dreaming about, what he was feeling as House did it. The older diagnostician smirked, Chase was probably dreaming of House touching him. 

House nipped at Chase's earlobe, whispering "I'm going to fuck you now, okay?"

Obviously, there was no reaction, but House figured that his protégé, House's favourite duckling, deserved a little warning. He kissed his temple, leaning down to pull down the red boxers, tossing them somewhere over there. And he admired his boy. Christ. Chase was probably an angel that had got mixed up in God's pile of humans. There was no way he couldn't be. Not with hair that golden. Not with skin that flawless. If his eyes were open, House knows they would be sky blue, sky blue for Christ's sakes. His arms are splayed out on either side of him, in a sort of almost similar gesture to Jesus getting crucified. He looked so serenely innocent, naked as the day he was born, cock leaking due to a rapists touch, but he looked so innocent. House wondered if God was watching now. Watching as his angel was about to be sacrificed. 

House wondered if God had planned this. 

He kissed up the inside of Chase's right thigh, and spread his legs easily, inhaling the smooth skin, the kid smelt of fresh fruit, fresh fruit and antibacterial, the antibacterial a side effect from working in a hospital for so long. House bit down on the soft skin of Chase's thigh, and almost- almost broke the skin, but he didn't. God would appreciate that. House unbuttoned his own pants, breathless "Listen Chase," he shrugged, pushing off his shoes "Don't be nervous, alright? This was...meant to happen," he kicked off his shoes "It's your fault, really, but I am sorry. You just...go around being all innocent, it's like you're asking for someone to taint you! And you shouldn't...you shouldn't tease me like that, alright?" he was panting now, kicking his trousers away, and then his pants, revealing his hard on. House had never been near to this hard in his whole life. 

He pulled out some lube, and coated himself, and then his finger, which, without hesitation, he slid into Chase's tight, wet heat. A few pumps with his index finger, and that was it. "Wish I had more patience," he whispered "But I don't." He positioned himself, and then pushed in all the way, only stopping when he was up to the hilt. Muscles clenched unfathomably tightly, sporadically, relaxing and contrasting and Chase groaned in distress, bucking his hips as his subconscious tried to get him the fuck away. House gripped Chase's hips "Shhh, come on, take it, be a good boy." Chase was so obedient at the hospital, House imagined he wouldn't have the same problem in the bedroom. He rocked forward gently, grunting, and Chase's breath caught in his throat, he was frowning, he was in pain. House smoothed the wrinkles in his forehead "You like it," he reminded, pushing against Chase's prostrate, and just as suddenly as the distress had appeared. It was gone. 

His eyes rolled into the back of his head, he pulled all the way out, and then shoved in. "Perfect." House hissed, this was better than he had ever imagined. So pliant. So easy. If House didn't know better he would have thought that Chase wanted to get drugged and then fucked in a strangers house while strangers danced to rhythmic music downstairs. This is what House wanted. This is what House would always want. And he'd always have it. Always. He was speeding up, going faster and faster, one hand moving from Chase's hip to his shoulder, pulling him on further. If Chase were awake, House would force him to ride him, would call him names. In fact, he could do that now. "Slut." He hissed, groaning as muscles squeezed him "Fucking slut. My slut. You're a whore. Nothing but a whore- but fuck, I love you," he buried his face in Chase's neck "I love you so much. There, I said it. That's why you wanted isn't it, slut? You wanted me to love you, and now I do, and here's the proof," he slammed into Chase particularly hard, and a pathetic whine clawed it's way out of Chase's throat. "I want you-" he hissed "God, I want you so much. In every single way. Every position imaginable. I want you to be mine, and mine alone." 

He was slamming into his now, their hips slapping together. "You would let me do anything to you." House choked "Because you're in love with me. You'd let me do whatever the hell I wanted- so why should I have to ask? I deserve this! I deserve you! I should just take it!" And he was justifying himself to someone who couldn't hear him. "This will happen again," House promised, as his orgasm built up "It will happen again, but next time- you'll be begging me for it. Crying out my name." He groaned, biting down on the already bruised skin near Chase's artery, and he briefly considers pulling out to come, easier to clean up. But he couldn't. Couldn't resist. He never could when it came to his Wombat. He cried out, slamming in one last time, and coming- hard. Burying his seed deep inside the drugged man. 

House collapsed on the bed, panting for a moment, sweaty. Before he got up, cleaned himself up, and then cleaned up Chase. 

He forced the younger one's mouth open, and tipped in the liquid that would wake him up.

Then House picked up his cane, and left. 

But that wouldn't be the end. House deserved Chase. As though he were a warlord, and Chase was his spoil. He'd have him again, only this time, Chase would come to him.

**Author's Note:**

> Woah...comments?  
> x


End file.
